The Sweetest Fanfic Ever
by TheChief88
Summary: When knockout actress Scarlett Johansson arrives in Gotham City, she expects a routine day at the studio. As cyborgs from the future start showing up, however, she starts to have second thoughts about her trip. Even her bumbling agent turns out to be more of a surprise than she could've ever expected. (featuring characters from Dredd and Resident Evil as well. reviews appreciated)
1. Chapter 1

"Miss Johansson! Miss Johansson! Over here!"

Scarlett smiled, sighing through her nose as she was ushered hastily through the horde of brightly flashing paparazzi photographers already gathered outside the Gotham City studio buildings. The filming of the 'Mass Effect' movie was supposed to have been kept secret, but it seemed that word had slipped in the short time it had taken her to fly from LA to Gotham. Scarlett had never particularly minded the tabloid writers and the photographers. It was part of her job, after all, and as long as they weren't too rude or aggressive, she saw no harm in being cordial to them. Her agent, Ken Leonard, however, was a different story. Scarlett had only hired him two months ago based on his charming, easy-going personality, but she was already starting to notice a few professional shortcomings. For one, he was constantly hovering over her when they were in public, reminding her of a particularly over-protective high school boyfriend. Secondly, he seemed incredibly inexperienced compared to her previous agent. She had never heard the phrase 'whatever you want' so many times in her life than during the Mass Effect contract negotiations that Ken had been present for. Still, he was nice, and she certainly had no trouble finding work or negotiating her own contracts. In fact, as she thought about it, was an agent even necessary?

"Back off!" she heard Ken say with a raised voice, instantly forming a human shield between her and the reporters. Scarlett smiled, seeing his light hair bouncing across his forehead as it did whenever he moved quickly. She kept walking, following the studio personnel through the front gates as she glanced up at the sky, seeing that it looked gray, gloomy, and on the verge of rain. She had never been to Gotham before, but based on the stories, it sounded like the paparazzi were the least of her worries. Gotham City was known for two things: being the corporate home of Wayne Enterprises, and being home to a slew of psychopathic criminals who were kept at bay by a masked vigilante. While Scarlett slightly enjoyed the idea of encountering the crime fighter known as Batman, the thought of being held captive by a group of chittering mental patients with self-control issues in order to do so was enough to sway her from the notion. Aside from that, the city seemed quite nice. Before she left LA, she had been invited to a charity fundraiser by the Wayne Enterprises CEO, Bruce Wayne, which was taking place later that evening. She was supposed to be in Gotham for at least four months while they filmed her scenes, and seeing as she had gotten the role of the movie's protagonist, Commander Shepard, she expected it would likely take longer. Being here so long, perhaps she'd end up meeting Batman after all.

She tried to pick up the pace as the crew led her inside the giant studio building, Ken hovering over her and nervously surveying the area.

"Ken," she said in a hushed voice as the crew walked a bit ahead of them. "You know I'm okay being hassled by reporters once in awhile, right?"

Ken glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow. "Sure I know, but it's my job to keep them away from you, isn't it?"

She laughed lightly. "Actually, it's your job to get more of them to follow me."

Ken smiled weakly, walking alongside her now. "Well, what kind of agent would I be if I didn't try to multi-task now and then?"

Another glimpse of his charm. She casually leaned onto his shoulder, derailing his walking path momentarily. "Just try and relax, be sure not to get too caught up in your work."

Ken sighed. "Story of my life."

They walked through the doors and were met with an expansive view of landscapes that looked to be for some sort of space colony setting. Before she could look at anything else, her old friend Christopher Nolan approached her.

"Well, look who's here," he said with a smile.

"Hey Chris," she said, smiling back and giving him a light hug. "I've got to say, as excited as I was about this project, hearing that you were directing it was all it took to sign me."

Christopher Nolan beamed. "Well jeez, don't start with the flattery right away, we haven't even started filming yet. Did they show you to your room yet?"

"No," she shook her head. "We literally just walked in."

"Ah, well you can head on down that hall," he motioned behind himself. "Yours is the third door in, seeing as I know you love being in the middle of everything."

She shook an accusing finger at him. "You've got it all figured out, huh?" she said while Ken instantly made his way past them, heading for the hall.

He laughed, walking past her as well. "I always do. Go get settled in and come find me, I've got lots of ideas about this project that I think you're going to enjoy. If you can't find your room, remember, it's the one with your name on it."

"I'll keep that in mind," she laughed back, striding towards the dressing room that would be her temporary sanctuary for the next few months. As she walked down the hall, she saw Ken already stepping out of her door.

"Uh, everything looks in order," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I'm going to make sure the guys with our luggage know which hotel they're going to, then I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

She shook her head as she walked into her room. "This is the exact opposite of relaxing!" she called back to him.

While her dressing rooms were usually top quality, Christopher seemed to have gone all out, making the huge dressing room nearly as nice as her actual home. She looked around in wonder, always surprised and humbled at how wonderful people could be.

"Mr. Travolta? Sir?"

Scarlett's eyebrow popped up. It sounded as though one of the studio supervisors had said 'Travolta'. She turned towards the door to her room, stepping swiftly into the hall and peering around the corner. Sure enough, standing in the entryway to the studio was none other than John Travolta. She knew for a fact he wasn't cast for the film, and was almost certain that he was supposed to be in LA shooting 'Pulp Fiction 2'. The only thing stranger than seeing him standing there looming over the supervisor was what he was wearing. With a full kevlar vest, combat boots, and tactical harness, John looked as though he had just broken up a street riot. He wasn't wearing a helmet, however, and while the supervisor was standing directly in front of him, John's eyes searched outward, seeming to scan through the entire studio. Her immediate instinct was to venture out and greet her fellow celebrity, but as she went to move, a strong feeling in her gut caused her to stay put. She instead pulled back, making herself hidden behind the corner as she watched from afar.

"Mr. Travolta?" The spindly supervisor said again. "Is there something I can help you with? Unless you have business here, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you vacate the building. I know who you are, but rules are rules."

"Where is Scarlett Johansson?" Travolta finally said, his gaze turning from the room and down to the supervisor. By now, a few more studio personnel had begun to muster around the scene, murmurs of curiosity bubbling up among them.

"Um, you have business with Miss Johansson?" the supervisor stammered, clearly a bit thrown off by the situation. "I'll have to check with her first, would you mind waiting outside?"

"I need to see her now," Travolta demanded again, his eyes not moving from the supervisor. "Where is she?"

"Mr. Travolta," the supervisor responded, his voice wavering a bit. "If you cannot cooperate, I'll have to inform security. I'm sorry, but you know how things work."

Travolta's head cocked to the side, and he spoke yet again. "That's too bad."

Without another thought, Travolta smacked the small man with the back of his hand, catching him in the side. The supervisor wailed in pain as he was swiftly knocked off his feet, bouncing across the floor, and went sailing across the room. Scarlett clasped her hands over her mouth as she gasped, nearly stumbling back over her own feet. The small supervisor flew as if he were a stone being skipped across a lake, certainly not a feat possible by any normal person. Something was wrong.

Travolta marched forward, a dead stare in his eyes as security guards rushed over to him. A group of four grabbed onto his arms, trying to pin him down. Travolta barely slowed down as he grabbed the heads of the nearest two men, smashing their skulls together in each of his hands. Scarlett screamed as blood sprayed out from their heads, and Travolta tossed their now lifeless corpses aside like trash. One of the other guards swore, jamming a taser into Travolta's side. The device sparked a bright blue, clearly connecting, but Travolta swiftly turned, backhanding the guard away, the sickening sound of his neck cracking filling Scarlett's ears. The last remaining guard stumbled away, falling over and trying to claw himself away from the seemingly unstoppable actor.

"Stay back!" he shouted, raising a simple nightstick in defense. Instead of pursuing the guard, however, Travolta continued forward, his eyes still locked ahead as the studio broke out into mass hysteria. Scarlett went to run, but her next sight was something she couldn't look away from. Travolta's piercing blue eyes began to glow red, and his gaze began scanning from side to side. She crouched back further, but she knew she was finished when his stare locked onto her position.

"Scarlett Johansson!" he called, raising his arm up. She watched as the armor panel on his arm popped open, revealing a mounted machine gun.

All of a sudden, Gotham didn't seem like such a great place.

The air lit up with the sound of gunfire, the loud cracking and blasting drowning out everything else, including the screams of the rest of the studio. Scarlett dove back from the corner, retreating further into the hall as a few of the bullets pierced through the drywall where she had just been sitting. She scrambled forward, trying to get to her feet as she heard the heavy, running steps of John Travolta bearing down on her. Scarlett turned, seeing the actor coming into view and raising his arm again, aiming down at her before she could stand. His eyes were no longer red, and had returned to their cold blue stare.

Scarlett did her best to prepare herself. Her teeth clenched, and in a split-second, she was prepared to resign her life. Instead of her world going dark, however, there was a loud blast: a shotgun. With a spray of blood and the odd ringing of metal, Travolta staggered heavily to his left, stumbling to stand up straight again. His efforts were met with another blast, and he stumbled again. Just as an angel would have, a tall man clad fully in leather rushed towards Travolta, holding a sawed-off shotgun. He looked to be a biker, wearing nothing but black leather, and sunglasses. Scarlett looked at his face, and instantly recognized him. It was Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Travolta looked up at Arnold, not seeming surprised or afraid, or much of anything. He attempted to line up a shot with his arm gun, but Arnold's assault continued with a heavy, straight kick, sending Travolta flying backwards and crashing into something unseen (though it certainly sounded painful).

Arnold turned to her, extending a single, leather-clad hand, and spoke.

"Come with me if you want to live."

Not seeing much of a choice, Scarlett scrambled to her feet, reaching up and grabbing his hand. Her breath was nearly left behind as he yanked her along, rushing towards the exit through the pandemonium of the studio. Scarlett looked behind her, seeing Travolta already crawling his way out of a smashed space lab set.

"I realize this might be a bad time," she shouted to Arnold as she tried to keep up with his swift pace, "but I wouldn't mind if you could give me the slightest hint as to what the hell is going on!"

"There's no time," Arnold called back monotonously as they neared the doors. "We need to go, now!"

Instead of opening the door, Arnold simply punched through it, busting it off it's hinges with ease. He pulled her outside, his head quickly turning from side to side.

"We need a vehicle," he stated, his hand still firmly gripping hers. Scarlett looked around, seeing the parking lot across at the next studio.

"We're going to have to run for it," she said, the sound of her own heartbeat thumping in her ears.

Both of glances turned as the sounds of a roaring engine and squealing tires were heard around the corner. A black SUV sped around the bend, racing towards them and screeching to stop. The passenger door popped open, and Scarlett looked up to see Ken Leonard looking back at her.

"Scarlett," he spat quickly. "Get in, we've gotta-what the hell? Arnold Schwarzenegger?"

"Ken?" Scarlett gushed, overwhelmingly happy to see a friendly face. "We've got to go back and help Christopher and his team."

"Negative," Arnold shot back quickly, pushing Scarlet into the front seat as he popped open the rear doors for himself. "Drive as far away from this area as possible. Survival of Scarlett Johansson is the primary mission priority."

"Couldn't agree more with you there," said Ken, slamming his foot down on the gas as Arnold closed the doors, the SUV racing out away from the studio buildings. Scarlett spun around, looking out the rear window to see John Travolta racing after them, on foot. To her horror, he was gaining on them.

Ken peeled the SUV around a corner, crashing through a chain-link fence and onto the street. Just before he was out of their sights, Travolta took a super-human leap, soaring through the air and slamming into the back of them, his hand punching through the fiberglass as he gripped on and began climbing up the back of the vehicle.

"Stay down!" Arnold barked, keeping his feet planted on the seats as he popped his torso through the moonroof with his shotgun still in hand. Ken glanced back as well, and Scarlett spotted a pistol in his jacket, handing just under his arm. There was another blast followed by the whine of lead on steel as Arnold fired the shotgun. The SUV swayed to the side as Travolta slammed another hand down, the imprint of his grip appearing on the inside of the roof. He wasn't going away. Scarlett knew she had to do something. She pieced together a makeshift plan in her head, and seized her window of opportunity as Travolta clawed his way forward again. With a swift motion she reached into Ken's jacket, grabbing his pistol and aiming for the spot on the roof where Travolta's hand lay.

"Hey, keep your head down!" Ken said quickly.

"Get ready!" she shouted, ignoring him. She flipped off the safety and opened fire, quickly grouping five shots at Travolta's hand. She heard the shots connect with something metal, followed by a clunk as he lost his grip.

"Now, hit the brakes!" she shouted, dropping the gun and springing towards the backseat. Ken did as he was told and slammed his foot down, the tires squealing loudly. Scarlet reached up, wrapping her arms around Arnold's legs as the force of the stop nearly flung him out through the roof. Instead, Travolta was the only one who kept going, rocketing forward and smacking down on the pavement a good fifty yards ahead of them. There was a spray of sparks as he collided with the asphalt and smashed into an oncoming city bus.

"Drive!" Arnold demanded again as he crawled back inside the vehicle, his sunglasses still somehow sitting perfectly on his face.

"Way ahead of you," said Ken, hitting the gas again and speeding off without looking back. Scarlett couldn't help a quick glance, seeing the bus had stopped but not whether or not Travolta was still moving. She then turned her attention to Arnold.

"Okay, this is probably a really stupid question," she said, looking him over, her heart still racing. "But are you alright?"

"I am undamaged," Arnold replied, pulling the moonroof closed. "The T-1200 was not anticipating cyborg resistance, and was therefore unprepared for combat. It will adjust it's programming to account for the error."

"Cyborg?" Scarlett said, on the verge of trembling. "You're telling me John Travolta is a cyborg?"

"Each series 1200 unit is made to resemble a prominent figure in human culture," Arnold said. "It allows for more successful infiltration."

"And how the hell do you know that?" asked Scarlett, knowing the answer as the words left her lips.

"I am a Cyberdyne Systems model 101, series 800," Arnold said, the mechanical tone of his voice now seeming overpowering. "Captured and reprogrammed by the human resistance and sent back in time to protect Scarlett Johansson."

Scarlett leaned back, the problem of shitty weather suddenly seeming rather welcome. She turned to Ken, brushing some of her long hair from her face.

"And are you a cyborg too?" she said. "Is that the explanation for why you're such a shitty agent?"

"Well, no," said Ken, his eyes focused on the road. "But my name isn't Ken Leonard. It's Leon Kennedy, and I've been assigned to protect you by the US government."

Scarlett nodded, pursing her lips. "That sure explains it."


	2. Chapter 2

It seemed that the Mass Effect movie would need to be put off just a bit longer. The sun had finally started to peek from the afternoon clouds a bit as Scarlett sat in the open door of the damaged SUV that Leon (whom she had known to be 'Ken' until about twenty minutes ago), had stolen to help them escape the T-1200, a terminator cyborg sent back in time to kill her. Leon had dubbed him 'The Travoltinator", as he was disguised as John Travolta. While she was a bit annoyed with him at the moment for lying to her, she had to admit the name was perfect. With them was another terminator cyborg, this one disguised as Arnold Schwarzenegger, who was currently busy gassing up their vehicle and checking for any critical fluid leaks after suffering a bit of damage from the Travoltinator. A few hours ago, she was getting off a plane in Gotham City and getting ready to shoot what would potentially be the biggest movie of her career. It was always funny to see how quickly things could change once they slipped from your hands.

Scarlett looked down, studying her big sneakers and blue jeans. All of her clothes were back at the hotel, which the Arnold terminator wouldn't allow them to go back to for safety reasons. She didn't have anything with her, and there was no one to call who could help with her present situation. She was on her own.

She looked up, seeing Leon striding up with a couple bottles of soda, two gas station hot dogs, and an apologetic smile.

"So," he started, sitting down next to her and offering her a hot dog. "I suppose now you know why I had no idea how to set up your film contract."

"Yeah," she said, nodding, though not looking over at him or reaching for the dog. "I thought you were just an idiot, but this makes more sense. It's the first logical assumption that anyone should make, really."

He smiled. "I suppose I deserve that. It wasn't my choice, not that I wasn't excited about working with you."

"Right, and who's choice was it then, exactly?" she said, giving him a cold stare.

"Well, right now, no one in particular. I've worked for several different government agencies over the years," Leon said, scratching his head. "I'm a bit of a renaissance man," he said with a smile. "Right now I'm sort of on call. There was a threat called in on your life, and it was startling enough to be taken seriously. Some of the higher ups decided I was the right man to shadow you, and here I am. Two cyborgs showing up must've been what the threat was about, or else our day is going to get a lot worse."

Scarlett raised an eyebrow. "Someone called the feds and threatened me? Who?"

Leon glanced away. "It was someone who I'm sure you don't know, but someone that the justice department takes very seriously."

She frowned. "More secrets?"

"Sorry," Leon said, sighing himself. "It's just a name, I'm not forbidden from telling your or anything, it just, it doesn't really matter. Trust me."

"That's a little tough to do at the moment. I do appreciate all the work just to look after me, but I'm not a prissy bitch. I do know how to handle myself if things get violent," she said, looking him over a moment. "But, you did save my life, so we're even for now," she said, taking the hot dog from him along with the bottle of Dr. Pepper.

"We were," Leon said with a grin. "But now you owe me for the hot dog."

"Let's call this 'kissing up to the boss' for now," she said, taking a huge bite.

The Terminator slammed the hood of the SUV, approaching them with his heavy steps.

"We should leave this area as soon as possible," he said in his thick, Austrian accent. "The T-1200 has likely remobilized and begun the process of tracking us down."

"First of all, thank you for saving my life," Scarlett said, "But I'd really like it if we could get a little explanation on a few things. The evil Travolta cyborg, for example."

"Travoltinator," Leon corrected.

"Your questions can be answered in the car," the Terminator said. "We need to seek out a more secure location and formulate offensive countermeasures."

"No, I think I'd like to know now," she said, narrowing her eyes.

Expecting an argument, Scarlett was taken aback when the Terminator instantly responded. "Very well."

"Oh," she said, studying his face for any hint of annoyance, though she wasn't quite sure if robots got annoyed. "You're not going to argue?"

"No," the Terminator responded curtly.

"Why not?"

"I am programmed to obey your orders as long as they do not directly conflict with my primary mission programming."

Scarlett's eyes widened. "So you'll do anything I say?"

"As long as it does not conflict with my primary mission programming," the Terminator repeated.

"And your uh, primary mission is to protect me?"

"My primary mission is to ensure the survival of Scarlett Johansson."

"Wow, I probably could've just stayed home," said Leon.

"And you're from the future?" Scarlett asked. "Before when were in the car, you said you were sent by the human resistance? Does this all have anything to do with those Skynet rumors that were started by that weird kid?"

"Yes," the Terminator answered. "Skynet is an artificial intelligence created by Cyberdyne Systems that will eventually take control of the world's defense systems and uses them to wipe out the majority of it's inhabitants."

"Right, that's what the Connor kid said," Leon said. "After Judgment Day, he said he's supposed to lead the remaining humans in a war and defeat Skynet. It's all true?"

"Yes," the Terminator said. "But the actions of John and Sarah Connor in the past have altered the future. There are other individuals that are a threat to Skynet, one of them being Scarlett Johansson."

"A threat?" Scarlett said, finishing her hot dog. "How am I threat to a giant AI?"

"I do not know," the Terminator said. "My memory was corrupted during my capture by the resistance, and had to be wiped before I was reprogrammed."

"So, you don't know why it wants me dead, but you're here to stop it at all costs?"

"Yes."

"Cool," she said. "Now, tell me about the other one."

"The Travoltinator," Leon clarified.

"The T-1200 is a highly advanced combat cyborg designed to engage groups of enemy infantry. It's design is less resource-intensive than it's prototype T-X model, though it is still currently Skynet's most advanced infantry model. It has the ability to graft weapons and other machinery to it's chassis, and is outfitted with an array of short and long range scanning technology. The unit pursuing you has been modified for infiltration."

"Whoa, back up," Scarlett said. "Did you say it was the most advanced unit Skynet has? More advanced than you?"

"Yes," the Terminator continued.

"Well can you stop it?"

"One on one combat with the T-1200 is calculated to yield a success rate of 4.34 percent with a .4 percent margin of error."

"Well," chimed Leon. "I sure hope that .4 percent ends up in our favor."

"Shit," said Scarlett, the gravity of the situation starting to set in. "Alright, so all we have to do is figure out a way to destroy an invincible robot and then figure out what it is that I do that hurts Skynet and do it?"

"On second thought, maybe it's a good thing that I'm here to help," Leon said.

"We have wasted enough time," the Terminator said, walking around and getting into the car. "This location is not optimal."

"Fair enough," Scarlett said, hopping into the front seat while Leon climbed in back. "But where can we go? If our hotel isn't safe, we don't have a lot of other options. I don't know Gotham City very well."

"Couldn't we stop by Bruce Wayne's party?" said Leon. "It's gotta have pretty tight security, and I can call ahead to have a squad of agents meet us there with some backup. Plus, I could definitely go for some cocktail shrimp."

"The T-1200 will not be impeded by the weapons that any human in this time could possess," the Terminator stated.

"Way to be a downer," said Leon.

"Actually, maybe that's not such a bad idea," Scarlett said, rubbing her chin in thought. "We could stop somewhere first and pick up some clothes and supplies. Of course, I don't really like the idea of leading that thing to a group of innocent people."

"It is currently our best option," the Terminator said, starting up the car and pulling away from the gas station.

Scarlett stepped from their damaged SUV, wearing a short black dress and black stockings, feeling her stomach beginning to fill with butterflies. There was a time when her nervousness would've been caused by meeting dozens of new people. Now, however, it was simply the fear that she might not make it through the evening, and her last night alive would be spent mingling with stuffy billionaires.

"Hey, you don't look half bad," Leon said, stepping out of the back seat wearing a sport coat and a red button-up shirt. "Maybe after all this is over, we could go out to dinner, just the two of us?"

Scarlett smiled. "Keep trying, you've got a long way to go."

Leon shook his head with a grin. "At least I asked."

"This building is unsecure," said the Terminator, stepping out of the SUV still wearing his biker gear and sunglasses. "There are a suboptimal amount of entry points for fortification and a number of structural weaknesses, though if we are allowed access to the fortified underground bunker, we stand a 38 percent better chance of survival should the T-1200 choose to engage us here."

Scarlett could only blankly stare at her robotic protector while she registered what he had just said. "Okay, relax," she said, patting him on the chest. "We're not going to hide in the basement. Leon already called in for government back up, and this place is crawling with security. If he shows up, he's not going to take us by surprise. Now, let's go give the keys the valet and make our way inside."

The three began their way up the beautiful stone walkway, gazing up at the mansion that towered before them. It was clearly old and built for someone of the utmost elegance. The architecture was classic, with tall columns and grim-looking windows peering down at them. At the same time, however, everything was pristine, clearly updated and preserved with an impressive amount of care. Bruce Wayne was clearly a man who respected the past, or at least didn't have much of an imagination.

They approached the front doors, seeing and older man who must've been the butler and a young-looking boy wearing a vest there to welcome them.

"Good evening," the older man said with a charming English accent as he bowed. "Allow me to welcome you to Wayne manor. Master Bruce thanks you very graciously for your interest in the charity fundraiser, and hopes that you'll take time this evening to enjoy yourselves as well as do something good for the less fortunate of Gotham. My name is Alfred Pennyworth, and if there is anything you require this evening to make your time here more enjoyable, please let myself or any of our fine staff know. Now, may we park your vehicle?"

The valet smiled, approaching the Terminator and reaching for the keys that dangled from his gloved hand. Before the boy's fingers even got close, the Terminator grabbed his wrist, squeezing down as the boy screamed.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Alfred, rushing to help.

"Oh god, we're so sorry!" cried Scarlett, grabbing the Terminator's arm and looking up at him. "Let go, now!"

The Terminator turned to her, instantly releasing his grip on the boy's wrist and the keys. The valet backed up, clearly frightened, but not hurt.

"I'm so sorry," Scarlett gushed. "He's my bodyguard, and we've recently had a bit of a security scare. Someone attacked me at work today, and he's a bit on edge."

"Oh, dear," said Alfred. "Attacked at work? What is it that you do that has people attacking you?"

Scarlett smiled nervously. "Well, making movies apparently."

"Making movies? You were at the studio then? It's all over the news," said Alfred, his face lighting up. "You're Miss Scarlett Johansson, aren't you?"

This time she lightly bowed. "It's a pleasure."

"My word, it's an honor," said Alfred. "I'm sure you must hear this all the time, but I'm your biggest fan. "The Prestige" is one of my favorite films!"

Scarlett smiled, giving him a light hug. "Thank you so much. Don't worry, you can tell me that all you want."

Alfred's face went a bit red. "Goodness, I apologize, how terribly unprofessional of me. At any rate, Master Bruce is expecting you. Again, if you or your friends need anything, I'll see to it personally. Please, enjoy the party," he said, stepping aside to welcome them in as the valet tentatively took the keys and went to park the car.

Scarlett thanked Alfred once more as they walked inside, following the signs and the crowds of guests until they arrived in an expansive, elegant ballroom, the rear wall simply a giant face of windows that opened up to the beautiful night sky. She had been to dozens of high profile parties, but Scarlett had to admit, she was impressed.

"This room is not safe," the Terminator said, immediately taking away from her appreciation. "Initial scans indicated a heavily fortified underground bunker. We must retreat there."

"We aren't going to the basement," Scarlett hissed under her breath. "Just try and relax, okay? And don't hurt anyone, either."

"I am a terminator," he replied simply. "It is what I was designed to do."

"He does have a point," said Leon. "They definitely didn't build him to be a celebrity chef."

Scarlett's eyes lit up at the possibility of having a personal robot chef that would cook anything she wanted at the snap of her fingers, but quickly shook the idea away.

"Just, don't hurt anyone unless they're trying to hurt us," she said. "Sound fair?"

"Sound fair?" the machine repeated.

"It means that you agree," she said.

"Very well," the Terminator said.

"Alright," she said with a sigh. "Leon, would you stay with him? I'm going to go find Bruce Wayne. I think I should probably give him an idea of what's going on."

"Really?" Leon asked. "You think that's a good idea?"

"At the very least, he should probably know his fundraiser could be crashed by a cyborg and a bunch of suits, don't you think?" Scarlett said as she strode away.

"Who knows?" said Leon. "Maybe he really likes surprises."

Scarlett scanned through the crowd, searching for the illustrious billionaire. She had seen Bruce Wayne plenty of times in the news, but as she had never actually been to Gotham before, she had never seen him in person. There were dozens of haughty looking men in suits with women in fur standing next to them, but there was no sign of Bruce. She passed by guest after guest until someone that looked so strange caught her eye that she had to stop. Standing in the corner of the room was a man who looked to have been in a horrible accident. The left half of his face was monstrously disfigured, giving him a bulging eye and a malicious, toothy sneer. The right side of his face, however, looked completely normal, and almost handsome. He used his attire to compliment his physical appearance, wearing a suit that was white on his undamaged side, and black on his deformed side. Two women stood next to him who each appeared to be following along with his gimmick. One of them was wearing a white pantsuit with her blonde hair tied back in a neat bun and a pair of slim spectacles sitting on her pert nose, while the other was wearing a black pinstripe blazer with a matching skirt and fishnets, and had a head of wavy black hair that flowed down to the middle of her back. The women each hovered quite close to the man, each seeming rather focused on him while he gazed over at her with his uncomfortable bulging eye. Scarlett averted her stare, trying to slip by him, but she knew she had looked too long as he didn't break his own gaze.

"Say," he said in an oddly calm and charming voice. "Weren't you in that movie with Woody Allen?"

Scarlett glanced over at him, trying to pretend this was the first time she had noticed him, and also trying to pretend she wasn't thrown off by his appearance.

"Um, Scoop?" she said, smiling. "Yeah, that was me, my name is-"

"Scarlett Johansson," the man said, stepping towards her, his two female companions following along. "I know, that's one of my favorite movies."

He sneered, his exposed left eye seeming to roll and narrow in on her on it's own. "I also loved 'The Black Dahlia,'" he said, his voice changing to a more sinister and harsh tone almost instantly.

"Oh," she said, fighting the urge to run off screaming. "That was a fun movie, too."

"Of course," he said, his voice calm again. "The name's Harvey Dent," he said, extending his right hand for a handshake. "I'm currently running for re-election as District Attorney here in Gotham. It's an honor to meet you, Miss Johansson. I was glad to hear you weren't hurt in that mess at the studios."

"Thank you. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Dent," she said, shaking his while forcing a smile. She knew she shouldn't have felt so uneasy. After all, Harvey seemed friendly enough, and she had much bigger things to worry. Still, she couldn't help but feel a bit off as she looked at his face. "I'm guessing you must go to a lot of these types events as a politician."

"There's always someone bothering you for a handout while you're in office," he snarled. "But, Bruce and I are old friends. I'm always happy to show up for him. And please, call me Harvey."

"Oh, you know Bruce personally?" Scarlett said, raising an eyebrow. "Is he in here? I've been waiting to thank him for inviting me."

"That's him, right over there," Harvey said, raising a finger and pointing to a group of women crowed around a black-haired man in a suit.

Scarlett couldn't help a smirk as she looked over, seeing that Mr. Wayne looked a bit uncomfortable with his fan club.

"Thank you, Harvey," she said. "It was a pleasure, have fun tonight."

"Likewise," he said. "Maybe we'll run into each other again."

She smiled, though part of her hoped that was last she saw of Mr. Dent. Scarlett made her way through the crowd towards Bruce, seeing the group of women laugh as he made a comment about something.

"Oh Bruce honey, you're too much!" one of them said.

"I hope you're coming to my mid-summer party," another said. "You're going to absolutely die when you see my new yacht!"

As Scarlett approached, she began to realize that TV didn't do Bruce much justice. He was tall, and though he was wearing a crisp, black tuxedo, she could see her was more than in shape, almost giving her Terminator friend a run for his money. He had steely blue eyes, and a sharp jaw line, making him quite the picture. She quickly snapped back to reality, feeling bad for even thinking about such a thing when people were potentially in danger.

"Mr. Wayne?" she said, leaning in a bit as the group of women laughed again. "I just wanted to say thank you for inviting me," she said, extending her hand.

"Miss Johansson," he said instantly, sounding a bit dumbfounded. "You're here." He quickly stepped forward, taking her hand and shaking it. "After that tragedy at the studios, I didn't think you'd make it. Are you alright?"

"I am, thank you," she said, nodding with a light smile. "It was horrifying, but I didn't want to miss out on something for charity."

"Well that's very considerate of you," he said, smiling warmly. "It's always nice to see people looking out for others less fortunate even when they're going through hard times themselves."

Scarlett kept her eyes on Bruce, though she could clearly see the other women around him giving her annoyed glances. "Would you mind if we took a walk? I can write you my check, and you can show me around this gorgeous home."

The group of women all seemed to collectively roll their eyes, but Bruce simply smiled, stepping towards her and lifting his arm slightly. "I'd be honored."

She smiled, taking his arm as he led her away from the crowd, striding slowly through the ballroom as the crowd seemed to part for them on it's own.

"I have to say, I'm happy personally that you're here," Bruce said, glancing down at her. "Lost In Translation is one of my favorite movies. I can't say how many times I've seen it."

"Really?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "Thank you. You seem like more of a classic movie sort of guy."

"I hope that doesn't mean I seem old," Bruce said with a smirk.

Scarlett laughed. "No, just, classic. There's a difference, you know."

"I hope so," he said. "I don't think I'd look very good with gray hair."

She smiled. He was quite charming, as all CEOs probably had to be. Still, Bruce seemed genuinely nice. Under different circumstances, she probably would've really enjoyed his charity event. Now, however, she couldn't stop thinking about the Travoltinator charging through the doors and murdering everyone. Perhaps she was being too grim.

"Bruce," she said, leaning in a speaking in a low voice. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I'm not completely out of danger."

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"There's a lot going on," she continued. "The er, man that attacked me today. He's still out there, and he's still after me. There's a threat out on my life, and the government sent a secret agent to look out for me, and there's this guy from the future who's…he's a machine, and I,"

Scarlett stopped, the gravity of the situation seeming to come down on her all at once. "Oh man," she said, holding her hand over her forehead. "I'm sorry. It's been a hell of a day."

"Slow down," Bruce said, taking her hand and squeezing it lightly. "Everything is going to be okay. Remember, this is Gotham, I can't even begin to tell you all the weird things we've seen here."

Scarlett smiled up at him, her racing mind calming down a bit. "I never thought I'd actually miss LA because of how relaxed it was."

"Scarlett," came Leon's voice from behind them. "I just got word from my people, there are agents in place all around the grounds,"

Scarlett turned, seeing Leon striding swiftly up behind her with the Terminator in tow.

"Bruce Wayne, meet Leon Kennedy," she said. "My government appointed protector. And this is-"

"Cyberdyne Systems model 101, Series 800," the Terminator said in his monotonous Austrian accent.

"The Terminator," she finished.

"Mr. Wayne," said Leon, extending his hand. "Sorry to crash your party like this, but Scarlett is in danger, do you have some sort of safe room?"

"Initial scans indicated a heavily fortified underground bunker," the Terminator said. "We must retreat there."

Bruce looked a bit taken aback. "I take it you're the machine?"

Leon looked to Scarlett. "You told him?"

"Well I'm not going to lie about it," she said. "It's not like it's tough to figure it out."

"That's fair," Leon replied. "So, I'm guessing you do actually have a safe room then?"

"That's one way of putting it," Bruce said.

At that moment, the party quieted down a bit. Something was making noise from outside. The group of four turned towards the giant wall of glass overlooking a courtyard. Scarlett's eyes went wide as there was a bright flash of gunfire, the noise registering a split second later. There were a few more muzzle flashes, and then the sound of an engine. It was loud, and getting louder, and then a pair of green headlights were coming at the glass.

"Get back!" Leon said, instantly putting himself in front of her. Scarlett watched as the entire wall burst into pieces, a giant van barreling through with heavy shards of glass raining down around it. The guests screamed, rushing away from the scene as the van spun around and then stopped dead in the middle of the ballroom. Scarlett peered around Leon's shoulder, trying to see what was going on. The van looked to be an armored transport that a bank would've used, or least it had been. The words 'Gotham City Bank' had been painted over with giant spray paint smiles of red and purple, and the glass was covered in green smiley faces with their eyes crossed out. Everyone else seemed to be doing the same thing as she was, as the only noises were murmurs of wonder and discontent.

"Is this one of those weird things you were talking about earlier?" Scarlett whispered to Bruce, glancing over at him. To her surprise, however, he was gone. She scoffed in disbelief. She had been expecting a bit more integrity from the man, but it seemed she had been mistaken. Suddenly, a loudspeaker mounted to roof of the van crackled to life, and a menacingly foolish voice filled the air.

"Excuse me?" the voice said. "Hello? Could someone out there validate my parking?"

The voice instantly began laughing. It was an obnoxious laugh, to say the least. It only lasted a few moments, but it was enough to send chills down Scarlett's spine and start a nervous knot in her stomach.

"Oh Gotham, relax! You snobs are always so uptight! 'Ooh, stop kidnapping me! Don't kill my family, boo, hoo, hoo!" Well, lucky for you, your old uncle Joker has put together some entertainment for your little party tonight!"

Instantly, several people in the crowd screamed and started rushing for the exits. The knot in Scarlett's stomach grew worse, and behind her, she could hear the sounds of more engines. There was a collective gasp from the crowd as the locks on the back doors of the van released, and the doors popped open. Inside stood people, over a dozen of them. They all stood close together, packed into the van like sardines. They looked like normal people, but as soon as Scarlett took a closer look at them, she could tell something was wrong. Each of them had pale white skin, wild green hair, and they were all smiling. It looked as though their faces had mutated in some way, with large red grins across their faces from ear to ear. They looked to twitch oddly and randomly, the entire group seeming to perk up a bit when they looked out at the crowd.

"You don't have to thank me!" the voice over the horn said again. "Just have fun and enjoy! They don't work cheap. Wait, yes they do, they're dead!"

The voice burst into maniacal laughter as the strange people in the van did as well, rushing out into the crowd after the partygoers. As if things couldn't have gotten any worse, there was another loud crash as another van burst through the front doors. Scarlett really should've stayed in LA.

The strange people from the van rushed the guest of the party, the guests screaming in terror as they were chased down. Scarlett watched in terror as she saw one of them snatch up a wine bottle, breaking it over a woman's head and using it to slash open a man's throat while another grabbed one of the servants and repeatedly bashed his head into the hood of the van. Each of them cackled relentlessly the entire time. Armed troopers began pouring in through the wall, presumably Leon's government back up.

"We've got to do something!" she screamed to Leon, still standing in front of her.

"Getting out of here sounds like a good start!" Leon called back over the chaos, drawing out his pistol and snapping back the slide. "We've gotta get back to the car-hey, where the hell is Wayne?"

"No idea," she called back, her heart nearly stopping as she saw one of the crazed attackers rushing towards them. "Leon, look out!"

They both focused on a woman in a blazer and a skirt as she ran full-bore at them across the ballroom, laughing wildly. Scarlett could see her eyes as she drew closer, filled with yellow with a blood red center. Leon swiftly took aim.

"Lady, stand down!" he called. "I don't want to hurt you!"

She continued laughing, not showing a single sign of acknowledgement, though she snatched up a carving knife from a table and began waving it around in the air.

"Leon!" Scarlett shouted, her heart nearly bashing it's way out of her chest as the woman drew nearer.

"Apparently she doesn't feel the same way," Leon muttered quickly, firing off a shot. The woman shrieked as it connected, hitting her square in the forehead. Before Scarlett even had a chance to react, however, the woman's head exploded. Scarlett screamed, her hands flying over her mouth at the grotesque spectacle. The blast showered the surrounding area in a cloud of green that stretched several feet out, just a few steps away from her and Leon.

"Jesus," Leon said, lowering his gun as the now headless body spilled onto the floor. The mist hovered in the air, slowly settling, and several of the guests around the cloud began coughing and twitching.

"Oh no," Leon said gravely, moving backwards and pushing her along. "We need to get out of here, right now."

Scarlett watched as the coughing guests convulsed, their heavy wheezing slowly turning to laughter. Their skin went pale, and their faces stretched and contorted into disgusting smiles.

"What the hell is going on?" Scarlett stammered, unable to believe what she was seeing. "We've got to do something, we have to help them!"

"We can't help anyone if they rip us to pieces," Leon called, turning and grabbing her by the arm. "Run!"

Scarlett bounded forward, struggling to keep up as terror flooded her senses. The air was filled with gunfire, screams, and laughter. Before them, another creature rounded the corner from the entryway, this one a man in a tank top and jeans. He laughed, his eyes honing in on them as he began a mad dash forward.

"Stay behind me!" Leon called, raising his pistol again and firing three times without hesitation. Two of the shots connected, hitting the man in his thigh. He stumbled a bit, but didn't slow down. Leon fired again, putting two holes in his chest, but still the attacker didn't let up. Scarlett's eyes widened as he leapt into the air, his arms stretched out as he laughed psychotically. At least John Travolta wasn't going to kill her.

Just as the monster was upon them, a heavy, leather-clad arm came up like a wall, clothes-lining the creature mid-air and slamming him into the ground hard enough to cause him to vomit up green sludge. Scarlett looked to the arm, seeing the Terminator standing before them. Another creature lunged towards them, who was swiftly caught by the Terminator and hurled with incredible force across the ballroom. Scarlett had to admit it was nice having an indestructible bodyguard.

"We need to go, now!" the Terminator said, turning back to her and Leon.

"Where do we go?" she blurted, moving in closer to machine just to be safe. "There's no way we can make it back to the car."

"We could always use you as bait," Leon said. "They seem to think you're cute."

"Shut up," Scarlett responded quickly.

As if by fate, a wooden panel opened on the wall beside them, revealing a hidden entrance. Holding the panel open was Alfred, the English butler. Scarlett raised an eyebrow. "Alfred?"

"Well don't just stand there gawking," he said, ushering them towards him. "Come along, quickly."

As arguing and questioning someone who was clearly trying to help them seemed rather foolish, Scarlett quickly moved forward with Leon, hurrying into the passageway with the Terminator covering their escape. The passage led to narrow metal staircase, illuminated with bright light panels in the ceiling. Alfred went to pull the panel closed again, but the Terminator was one step ahead, slamming the wall closed and bending the handle closed.

"My word!" exclaimed Alfred. "I hope you're planning on replacing that!"

"There's no time," the Terminator said, turning and marching down the steps. "The underground bunker is down the stairs, we must take up a defensive position and re-evaluate optimal survival strategy."

"We've got to figure out a way to help everyone is what we have to do," Scarlett said, following Alfred as he hurried down the steps. "How big is the basement? We can funnel people through this tunnel, but other entrances would be helpful. Is Wayne safe?"

"Safe?" Alfred said as they stopped at a heavy steel door with a fingerprint reader. "I think it's best if I simply show you."

Alfred pressed his hand to the reader, the pad turning green and the door opening automatically with the heavy sounds of tumblers and locks releasing. Alfred stood aside, beckoning them to enter into an expansive, open area. As Scarlet stepped forward, she was first met with a mix of wonder and confusion. The room wasn't a room at all, but a cave, and she stood on a simple catwalk that wrapped around what looked like the entire area, with steps leading down to a variety of strange things that painted an even stranger picture. There was a section of padded posts and hoops that looked like some sort of training obstacle course, and next to it a wall of what looked like strange riot gear and tools. Beyond that, Scarlett could see a sleek black car with giant black fins on the back and six wheels, two in the back and four up front. There was a jet as well that looked to be modified to have batwings, and a boat sitting in a pool of water that looked to run out of the cave past the car and under a bridge. There was even a giant penny on display, as well as a few other antique-looking items. She looked just below the catwalk, seeing a giant computer screen that looked like something she had seen in the Mass Effect set designs, and next to it were several glass cases, each with a mannequin wearing a strange costume. In front of the computer stood a figure in a dark black suit with what looked like a cape draped over his back.

"Whoa," Scarlett said, her mind slowly putting the sights together.

"I thought the mansion was excessive," Leon said, standing beside her as Alfred closed the heavy steel door behind them. "And I've seen a few mansions."

Scarlett was nearly lost for words. She had just spilled her guts to Wayne not fifteen minutes ago, expecting him to be surprised while the entire time he was keeping a giant secret of his own.

"It's Wayne," Scarlett stammered in a whisper.

"What about him?" Leon said, the Terminator and Alfred stepping up behind them. The figure at the computer turned, slowly approaching them.

"He's…Batman," Scarlett said simply. She had seen images of Batman on the news before, but the videos couldn't do him justice. His suit was an impressive work of armor and kevlar and would clearly be a great encumbrance for anyone who wasn't in peak physical condition as he was. His gauntlets, cape, cowl, and boots were all clearly designed to intricately create the most seamless and effective piece of armor that Scarlett had ever seen. He looked up at them with intense eyes that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I figured since you shared your secrets with me, I'd return the favor," Batman said, looking up at them. "And I think we're both going to need all the help we can get."


End file.
